Decision
by servantofclio
Summary: April's thought this over for a long time, and she's not going to wait any more. (Set in season 4, after "The Arena of Carnage;" spoilers through there, but mostly this story is an excuse for fluffy teenage kissing.)


April had thought it over for a long time.

Maybe too long, in fact.

It's easy, looking back, to see those moments where she could have chosen differently. Donnie's faltering voice, the day the Kraang invaded New York, when she'd cut him off, almost panicking at the thought of what he might say. Or any part of the business with the music box, when she hadn't been able to let herself let him go. Or any of the dozens of times Casey had asked her out.

She hadn't wanted, any of those times, to confront Donnie's feelings for her. (He was so bad at hiding them, really.) She hadn't wanted to face up to what she felt, either, sometimes hadn't even known what that was.

She wasn't ready, she told herself. She hadn't been ready, any of those times. There was too much going on. Alien invasions and ninja attacks and mutants everywhere, and she'd just wait until things settled down a little, and then—

Except things never did settle down, did they? Here they were on a spaceship, _light-years_ , millions upon millions of miles away from their families and their city, chasing after something that might, just might, be able to save their planet from complete destruction, and she didn't know if she was ready yet, but she — she didn't know how much time she'd ever get.

She'd lost count of the number of times she'd almost lost them, lost him. She still remembered the weight of Donnie's limp body in her arms the day he'd stopped breathing, lost in dreams. Almost lost forever. Months and months ago now, and still she'd waited, fretting, reasoning to herself that they just had to get back to New York — had to defeat the Kraang — had to find Karai — had to —

Well, there was always a reason, wasn't there?

And today, Donnie and his brothers could have died in the vacuum of space, or for the amusement of crowds of alien onlookers who would have done nothing but cheer as they bled into the sand.

So April O'Neil was done waiting.

"Donnie?" she said hesitantly. There was only so much room on the Fugitoid's spaceship, but they all had to get some privacy occasionally or they'd kill each other, so by mutual agreement they'd parceled out a little private space for each of them. Donnie had grabbed a little cubicle that the Fugitoid said used to be storage for a workroom and was there now, surrounded by gadgets and wire and odds and ends and something that was probably the spaceship's technical manual. "I hope I'm not intruding, but could I talk to you for a minute?"

"April!" Donnie put down what he was working on immediately and sat back on his heels, looking up at her expectantly. "Of course, come on in, you're never a bother."

 _Unlike_ some _people_ , went unsaid.

"Thanks," said April, and stepped in, letting the door slide shut behind her. She dropped down to her knees on the floor herself, because she couldn't do this looking down at him. Once she'd gotten there, with those wide brown eyes fixed on her, the words seemed to dry right up in her mouth. Her palms felt damp. She surreptitiously wiped them against her knees and smiled. Donnie smiled back, waiting patiently. "You know," April said, searching for a way into the conversation, "You guys really scared me today."

"Yes, well..." Donnie glanced away, fiddling with a bit of twisted wire between his fingers. "It was a close one, but all worked out fine, didn't it? We made it out, and hey..." His eyes returned to her, with a brighter smile. "... you got the piece of the black hole generator without us! You did great, April, you didn't really need us."

She smiled, ducking her head a little and pushing her bangs out of her eyes. Donnie always had such faith in her, no matter what. "Thanks. I know Casey and I managed okay, but that wasn't really the point. I was more afraid something would happen to you down there. I mean, you got captured, you almost got shot out an airlock, and then we found out you'd been sent to fight like gladiators, and I just..."

"We were okay, though," he said earnestly. "You don't really have to worry about us, April, we'll be all right." He reached out and patted her hand.

She laughed. She couldn't help it. Donnie was trying so hard to be reassuring even though they both knew perfectly well that he couldn't make her any promises like that. Promises like that were totally empty, because they didn't control anything. The turtles had nearly gotten killed like three times that day alone. "I wish that were true," she said.

Donnie's shoulders hunched a little and his mouth pulled together. He started to pull his hand away, but April grabbed for it before he could. His hands were so big that she was basically just grabbing his finger. She felt better that way, though, with his big, cool, calloused hand in hers. She felt steadier. She decided to start over. "Donnie," she said, "do you remember when the Kraang attacked New York, how you were about to say something to me?"

He blinked several times, rapidly. His eyes darted to the side. His free hand drifted up to rub the back of his neck as a nervous laugh burst out of him. "Wow. That wasn't what I expected you to say at all, April, um... I... you know, I don't really remember. There was so much going on, it's really hard to remember..."

Donatello was really such a bad liar.

"I wasn't very nice to you that day," she said evenly.

"Oh, no! April, you're always great—"

"Let me finish," she said. "I know you had a crush on me."

His cheeks darkened and he leaned back, almost pulling out of her grip, looking everywhere but at her. April continued, talking fast, before he could sputter out any more denials. "I mean, I know you used to. I don't know if you still feel the same way, but I thought that's what you were going to tell me that day. And you were right then, you know, we never know how long we have or whether we'll get another chance, especially us, with how crazy our lives are, so I just... I wanted to say that I really care about you, and I was scared for you today, so I needed to say it, finally."

She had to stop for breath then. Donnie was still blushing, stiff and staring at the floor. He said, "April, you don't have to—"

She couldn't bear for him to do this even one more time. She lunged forward on her knees and kissed him. Not a friendly peck on the cheek, like she'd done many times before, but a real kiss, a full-on kiss on the mouth. A _romantic_ kind of kiss.

It was horribly awkward. First off, because he wasn't expecting it, and she'd cut him off mid-sentence, his mouth half-open. Second, because his mouth was wide and shaped differently than hers. Third, because she'd never done this kind of kissing before, and she didn't really know what she was doing any more than he did.

Fourth, because they were both on their knees in a cluttered storage compartment-turned-makeshift-workspace, and she overbalanced and nearly fell into him. Her lips crashed into him a little too hard, bumping into his teeth, and April was still tipping forward.

But Donnie's free hand shot up to catch her, bracing her under the arm, and he said, "Oh! April, are you okay... what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to kiss you, doofus," she said, exasperated. Her lips smarted a little where they'd banged into his teeth.

They stared into each other's eyes. They were only a few inches about, his brown eyes huge and startled. He still had a firm grip on her, his hand large and solid against her ribcage, and if he just twitched his thumb over, he'd be touching her breast. The thought made April's cheeks burn. "Unless you don't want me to," she added in a smaller voice. And if he didn't, she'd just apologize and back out of here — somehow — and go into her tiny private bunk and cry until she got over this — somehow — and then she'd have to come back out and pretend like this had never happened.

His eyes got even wider. "Of course I want you to," he said. Whispered, really. "If you want to, I mean."

April smiled, relief and joy and victory surging up in her heart, and kissed him again.

It went so much better when the other person was kissing you back.

It was still a little awkward, while they figured out how to fit together. April bumped her nose against Donnie's rounded snout a couple of times. But his mouth was warm and wet and moved softly against hers, and when she tentatively stroked her tongue against his lip, he made a little noise that made her cheeks feel flushed all over. So she just giggled at each awkward bump, and found if she tilted her head just _so_ , that the awkwardness went away. She teetered forward on her knees, and then both of Donnie's hands were around her waist, supporting her, and her hand tentatively slid up his arm. She'd touched him before, of course, she'd touched all the turtles casually enough, or in training, but she'd never really done that _slowly_ , feeling the way his muscles bunched under his skin.

When they finally broke off for air, April's heart was pounding, and she felt as if her face must be bright pink all over. Donnie's eyes were wide and darker, too, the pupils dilated. "So that's... a different kind of kiss," he said.

"Yeah," April agreed, flushing. He was still holding her, and she almost wished he wouldn't, that he'd let her tilt forward until she tumbled into him and knocked him onto his shell and then she could kiss him that way... She cleared her throat. "Did you like it?"

" _Like_ it? I..." His hands tightened. "I loved it. I love _you_ , April. "

Even confessing to him, she hadn't quite been able to say that word, and even now it didn't come out of her mouth right away. "Oh, good," she sighed. Donnie straightened, looking startled. Before he could get any wrong ideas, she said, softer, "I love you too."

They kiss again. By this time, they've really gotten the hang of it. It occurs to April, dimly, that the others are going to tease them mercilessly. That's okay. She'll beat them if she has to. Between the two of them, they can handle anything.


End file.
